The Nameless
by badaax
Summary: They say the zanpakutō is a reflection of its user, then what does that make him? He knows how it feels, to lose control and be lost. He has given into the darkness and become its master. Rated M.


**A/N: This story is loosely based on a Slipknot song called The Nameless, which always reminds me of Ichigo and his relationship with his hollow. It is not essential that you listen to the song before reading this story. This was mostly a writing exercise, looking at things from a different POV. It centres around the fact that Ichigo's inner hollow is the physical manifestation of his zanpakutō and how that would affect him. **

**Disclaimer: Bleach and all related characters belong to its respective owner. Song lyrics belong to their original author.**

* * *

He watches you. But then you know that don't you? You can feel his eyes on you, that heady stare burning more than thoughts into your back. Your hands twitch, pale fingers gracefully flicking your raven hair behind one ear. He watches with baited breath as the hair slides back into place, teasing the skin of your beautiful neck. He is envious and that doesn't sit right with him.

He hears you laugh; low and melodious like a thousand choirs of angels singing symphonies into his heart. He hates how painful it is to hear your voice, especially when it's not directed at him. He watches you flutter your eyelids, in a dress far too short and far too tight and it stirs him up. You flash your teeth, bright white and luminescent but the poor young man in front of you has no idea what you really are.

You string him along, pulling him into your web, prepared to eat him up without a moment's hesitation. But you wont, because when it comes down to it, you don't have the stomach for it. The boy says something and you laugh again, but this time your eyes flick back to his, amber meeting violet in a stunning display of dominance and sincerity.

He feels the monster in him roar its ugly head, the darkness, and the deep hollow inside of his chest that was never not a part of him. His hollow, not some foolish figment of his imagination but his soul. They say the zanpakutō is a reflection of its user, then what does that make him? He knows how it feels, to lose control and be lost. He has given into the darkness and become its master.

Now he watches you, flirt with a boy you don't know and he knows that you're doing it on purpose. You're pissed at him, annoyed at something neither of you can remember but you're still punishing him. You know how hard it is for him not to snap, his hands fist and his body trembles as the darkness calls for you, his angel of death, the dark nightmare that thrust him into this new world as a mere infant.

He wants you. Always. Even now. _Especially_ now. You should know better, he thinks with a smirk before a sigh escapes him. He'll have to punish you for this, lose himself to instinct and the rage and show you all the things you've never seen but only want with him. You say you know it's a part of him and you accept that, you're probably the only one, but do you know just how much _it_, _he,_ longs for you too?

If you are his then you are his hollow's too but then again they are one in the same. Your zanpakutō is cold and beautiful, just like you and she is you. His is a fighter and it always, _always_, wins. You shouldn't pick fights you can't hope to triumph in.

Your eyes meet his, molten amber and scintillating violet and in that moment you are one. You know his thoughts, his inner darkness and desires. _You're mine._ He thinks, no breaths, his heart beats your name with a melody, your voice and your life is the blood in his veins. You look away again but this time your mask slips, your whole body trembles and his smirk widens. He knows what he just did. He knows the effect he has on you. You're his. _You are, you are._

He approaches your side and without a word you walk away, the bewildered young man left in your violent wake, _your _shinigami following steadily in your wake. He would follow you anywhere and he will have you anywhere. He's never wanted anybody more than he's wanted you and from the way your heart skips and your skin flushes the feeling is very much mutual. He says nothing though. He's not good with the words, just like you. It's your fingers sliding into his that speak volumes.

* * *

"You fool!" You hiss pain laced into words of harsh anger and he flinches. You kneel before him, your hand pressed against your side, crimson trailing through your delicate fingers. You grit your teeth, overcoming the pain to stand, a warrior, always a warrior and far stronger than him. You simply hate to kneel at his feet. He curls his hands into angry fists. His inner demon admonishes him.

_You failed her, failed, fail, failure. Pathetic. Utter weakness. Disappoint. _Its just words but his anger is clear. The king failed the queen.

"I'm sorry Rukia," He tells you, eyes hidden behind his orange mane, the hairs teasing his cheeks. Shame burns in him, he was trying to help but just made it worse.

"How many times have I told you Ichigo?" You gasp, your voice low and shaking, laced with the fatigue and the ache. "I don't need you to protect me." He nods, can't speak, he just doesn't have the words. He never does. Just like you.

He can still see it play on repeat; his soul wont let him forget. It was a routine kill, all you had to do was slice through the hollow, but no, you are his obsession and he panicked, the sight of your blood stained body playing on repeat in his mind. So he moved. He killed the hollow but missed its friend taking a swing for him. You blocked the hit, with your body, no time to raise your sword.

Now you're coated in scarlet and it's his fault. He shouldn't try, not if it's going to get you hurt. But he just can't let go. Possession his only vice, and _you're mine_. He bows his head in submission, the strength gone, the pain in its stead. He can't look at you and know he did this. He's supposed to protect you, but then again his soul reminds him the only thing he's ever really loved, is hurting you.

His hollow, spat like a curse and something more is the darkness inside of him, the manifestation of his own power, the representation of his greatest need. To protect. _Protect you_.

"Ichigo," You snarl, your anger dripping from your tongue, that beautiful tongue of yours which has brought him so many new pleasures he can't think straight. He keeps his head low, he's just an animal he knows his place. Your fingers curl against his chin tipping his head towards you, your touch is sure but gentle.

You say nothing; you simply meet his eyes with your own. Then you release him, and he stands, towering over your bent form. He walks away, new fire in his heart and your life in his lungs. Now it is your turn to follow.

* * *

You sit stoic and removed, as cold as your heart and the ice on your blade. You once told him that emotions are a burden not to be felt by shinigami. You should not shed tears for that is defeat of the body by the heart. You hate to lose and you hate to see him do the same.

But here, for some reason in this opulent place he wishes you'd bend your rigid rules and just crack for once. If he could see you break he'd know you still feel something. But you don't you simply bite your tongue and clench your fists. You resist. Always.

So he breaks for you, the demon, the hollow heart inside of him sparking into life roaring its approval. He wants to rage, to tear this stuffy and ridiculous place apart. It tears at his skin, coils in his chest and his stomach and lingers just beneath his skin. He breaths once, in and then fire out. You don't turn to him, but you know, you always do just how close to the edge he lies.

He is a monster, a boy and a man and a _thing_, you're the only one that ever gets to see him like that. You're the only one that can make him lose control. You, dominant possessive, you. If his need is great then it's only mirrored by yours. He pines for you, like a pathetic animal, and when you leave this place he'll tear you apart and make you his once again.

In front of these people though he is smug in his knowledge that he is the one, the only one to make you tremble. He ruins you. He uses you. He is you. Only he can move you and make you sway.

The only thing he's ever wanted is you. How and when doesn't matter. One day he woke with your taste on his tongue and your body wrapped around his and in that moment, dark hearts collided in a breath-taking kiss of alliance and destiny. You don't scorn the beast, you revel in it, you love it, you make him feel like a man and not just a thing.

But you are a tease. You push him, pull and twist the way you want and he is helpless to you. It's not equality, it's a fight and a fire and a dance. He leads, you lead and together you break. He closes his eyes and breathes you in, even from across the room your scent fills his lungs and your touch reaches his heart. He will have you. He can no longer wait.

Someone speaks, harsh words spoken in an even harsher voice. This place and these people are fools. They know nothing of which they speak. They have no honor, not like you, you are the one who taught him how to stand before you dropped him from the nest. He worships the ground you walk on because its animalistic, it's the control he needs. He wants you, needs you, fills you completely.

You are small and tiny and so utterly weak. But you hide it with big words and a sword. It's child's play for him to reach out and crush you. He could have you. Any _way _he wanted. From the moment the hollow covered his face he knew that he'd never be normal. He had nothing but the war in his heart. But somehow you reach through the void and fill the spaces, spaces he fills in you. Warmth and heat despite the cold.

It's your touch, your small hands, your slick skin sliding against his own, your desperate pants and the sigh of his name as he takes you, consumes you. You rule over him but at times he is the one in control. You are his mate and he will protect you with all that he is. He doesn't know where this need comes from, well that's a lie he does, its from the hollow, normal people don't think the way he does.

He defeated Aizen, the Espada, the Quincy, he fights them all and wins because he has too. Avarice and hubris are his failings. He wants what he can't have and his pride comes at too high a price. He must protect. Everyone. Indiscriminate. The hollow knows, it understands and it says _let me help you king._ But you are the only one who reaches through the black when he can't see straight and the rain blinds and drowns him once again.

The sun. His white moon. His world. And off course you are, you brought him the power to protect, you made his world what it is therefore you are it. The hollow understands that better than anyone.

But in this place, with _these _people, different animals altogether he burns for you. Yearns to make that look leave your face. He's thought about it, crossing the space between you and having you here right in front of these people. He sometimes thinks you'll let him but most of the time he thinks you won't.

They say such horrible things, lies and slander about your honor. A dog they call you, a mangy pup that is not even worthy of licking their shoes clean. Freeloading street rat, just like your sister. He can't listen to it. Even Byakuya looks sick, but then he is just as at fault, he insists you attend these stupid clan meetings. The Kuchiki's don't understand, even now, after all this time, they just don't get you. You, _you_, his heart and his soul and his better half. To hurt you and to curse you is to do the same to him.

But he can't act, he is chained here, cursed to remain mute by the promise he made you to do so. You told him you could take it, you smiled that gentle smile of yours and something in him cracked and wilted. You break him in ways he didn't know he could break. Shattered into a thousand pieces and you are the only one who holds the plans to put him back together.

_Whore_ he feels rather than hears them say. You flinch then, the mask painted cracking under the strain. Now he does move. He can stand for a lot but attacks on your integrity _and his_ will not do. He rises to his feet and crosses the room to you. You meet him head on, the fire in your eyes pure hatred and sorrow. You want them to like you, to accept you, for your brother's sake. But he's a fool, you're an idiot and they're all pigs. He'd cut them all down like he wants to but you told him you could take it.

His coarse fingers curl around your tiny ones, digits that shake and ache with the coldness flooding your bones. He squeezes once and you look so helpless and lost he almost loses control. He growls under his breath and your free hand grips his arm. _Calm _he feels you tell him, the hollow only listens to you; he only listens to you, well at least some of the time he does.

You breathe out in tandem with him and your gaze meets with the speaker of that cruel word. He follows your gaze and his anger boils.

"You will not speak that way about my fiancée," He snarls, your silver ring adorned with a simple diamond, cold against his hand. You shiver lightly and he hates to see you so weak. The elders shrink under his aura, this dark thick black oozing from his every pore. It itches in his soul, the need to destroy. His hollow is nameless but it is his soul and his intentions and right now it cries for blood.

You squeeze his hand and he breathes out. _Be mine_ he had said, all the confession he could give you on that day, in the rain, under the moon. He hates the rain and so do you but this moment had been a happy memory, some good among the fucked up shit that was life.

You had said yes, just a breath of the word, your lips molded and fitted against his all the answer he had needed. He'd felt your plea silent yet desperate against him as you both fell under his demon. _Just love me_. No problems there. Every part of him already did.

You glare hard, a short bow thrown in your nii-sama's direction before you turn and walk away, your hand unbreakable in his, the thoughts shared with him. You need him, he can feel it. The ache for him. You want him to love you but he can't. He'll take you how he wants and you'll beg for him to never let go. _You're mine. Mine. _

* * *

He doesn't give you time to breathe, he simply throws you to the floor of your home, _and his_, shedding the top of his uniform. Your lips pull into something resembling a snarl, your hands pressed flat against your wooden floor. You open your mouth to speak, shout maybe, he doesn't know or care.

The beast rages and what it wants, it gets.

He smothers you with his body, his hands locked tight around your upper arms, your lips smashed possessively against his own. Your nose hits his and your teeth clash but he doesn't pull back. He's held on long enough, he can't take the urge or the ache to consume any more. It's made him sick, rotten to the core, your body once so pure and undefiled will make him well again.

You say something against his lips, he thinks it's his name but it makes his insides coil even tighter. Your fingers grip his elbows, the only part of him you can reach in his bruising hold. Tomorrow you'll be black and blue, coated in crimson his own and yours but you no longer care.

You decided long ago that you'd live for him, die for him, give up everything for him. He was an underserving brat but you made him into a man. _In my heart_ you had said. The hollow had liked that. _Mine_ you had said without really saying it. Nothing was closer to the truth.

You hate to be dominated, to be made weak, you are his partner and so wondrously capable. But thought and reason left him long ago, now he is the animal, but still Ichigo, he's not sure how it works, he's not sure he wants to.

You wrench your arms from his grip and shove him backwards. You pause to remove the top portion of your uniform, before straddling his hips, wet heat against hard pain. You groan and he growls in response. You kiss him, as firm as he kissed you, your teeth biting at his lips piercing flesh and spreading red between you both. Salt and iron taints his tongue and he can barely breathe.

He rolls you back, his hand ripping your bindings from you, your pert and humble breasts filling his field of view. He leans forward, covers you with his body, loves the feel of you trembling in his embrace. His hands find yours pushing them above your head and locking you in place. You writhe in discomfort, wanting more and more, his insatiable animal approves just like yours.

He leans into you, his lips teasing one of your breasts, tongue tracing lines of fire eliciting a fervent response from your heated skin. You taste of ice and ecstasy. He fucking loves it. He pulls your peaked nipple into his mouth, his teeth biting a little too hard. You groan something, your body straining against his but he can't let go. He looks up, mouth still on your flesh, his eyes pouring liquid into your own.

Violet so dark it looks black meets him. Your cheeks are flushed, his blood smeared on your lips, you pant so hard it shakes the room and the last of his self-restraint. He releases your tortured flesh and rises, his eyes speaking the words he wants to say but just can't. _Let me take control_, he asks and you respond, fingers twitching in his, hips and legs clutching him tighter to you. _Yes, dominate _you tell him and he listens.

He allows himself one last kiss, just one more touch of something gentle before the dam breaks. His beast wants out and he will let it play. For he already is the beast inside. His lips are warm against yours and you tremble, your tongue traces the marks you made and you soothe them as best you can as held as you are. _So innocent_ and his to break he thinks lovingly.

Then he's gone and you're crying out. It's like music to his tortured ears. His teeth bite your skin, piercing tight flesh on your throat. You call out again; in ecstasy or pain he can no longer distinguish between the two. But your legs clutch him tighter and he knows you want it but he'd never hurt you. He just needs to mark you, make it real.

He lets go of your hands and you slump beneath him, your hazy eyes watching him move, watching as he removes what remains of your uniforms. Baring you before each other. He trails your body with his gaze, he can't get enough of it, milky white perfection marred with scars, pale against his tan.

He runs his tongue along you, from navel to sternum and you shiver beneath him. You hate to be dominated but right now you let him win. He needs it, needs you like this, it's the only thing that breaks the anger and soothes the rage. He is a monster and the monster needs fed too. Only you understand. Only you. You. You. You. It's the mantra on his lips and the beat in his heart.

He moves lower, slipping between your legs, your hands fisted in his hair, your breaths desperate. He slides one long calloused finger into your moist heat; the resounding moan that escapes your lips is the most erotic sound he's ever heard. You're so slick and hot. It's like oxygen in his lungs, your desire, and the smell of your need for him. He did this. He made you so wet and ready.

He licks the finger that he had in side of you, before pressing it against your own lips. He doesn't say the words but you know it soothes his temper to taste as well. It makes him feel good, he just wants to please you. He just wants to make you feel good.

His hands find your hips and he pulls himself close, his teeth nipping gently at your inner thighs. He bites harder, marking you here too, he needs the control or he can't breath. But you let him. You'll hold him in the aftermath and tell him it's okay by not saying anything, just simply holding him until he understands.

His nose presses against your wet heat and you buck your hips, a strangled gasp leaving you. He can't wait, he needs the taste, his careful control is slipping just as quickly as yours. His fingers tighten on your skin and he breathes. _Let my savage in_.

Your legs part and he dives in, tongue and teeth and mouth dragging you through the swamp until your head is above the murky waves. You claw at his hair, your body twisting beneath his touch. You moan his name, scream it, cry out to the heavens as he probes you and pushes you and devours you like the beast he is. You lose your composure and he loves it.

_You deserve it_, he thinks as you fall from the high he brought you to. Your eyes shut tight against the feeling as he keeps up his assault. He can't get enough of your taste, the scent of your skin and your arousal as it floods his mouth. He breathes your name against you and he wants to never let you go.

You're ready, he knows it, wet and hot and panting for breath. He is the savage now. The nameless and he will have you. You deserve it. He grips your hips and flips you over, pressing your front to the floor. He selfishly wants to own you and he knows you'll selflessly let him. He rises to his knees and pulls you towards him, his fingers buried deep inside of you. You cry out again, clenching around his hand.

He positions himself behind you, pressing the length of himself against you, trembling lips more than welcoming. You push yourself onto shaking arms, not content to just lie there and take it. You glance over your shoulder and he knows that no matter what happens, he's not the one in charge, not the one in control. That's you. Always you.

You turn away again, braced, and he pushes forward straining hips hitting you with the force of the animal inside of him. You shout out and he knows he's being too rough but he can't stop now. Your fingers curl into fists and he loves it, loves you on your knees with him behind you, in you and buried to the hilt.

Your heat squeezes him hard, you're always so tight, he's told you so many times. He slowly slides back and pulls out pausing and teasing for the briefest of seconds before he thrusts back in. His nails bite into your skin and you hold in your strangled cries. He builds his speed, bringing you to the precipice before he finally snaps and loses all control.

_You're mine!_ He screams inside of his head, the sight of you spread around him, beneath him almost too much to bear. Your arms shake and your body quivers.

"Ichi-go, please," You pant and he finally does shatter. He pulls out and thrusts back in setting a new pace that's blistering and bruising for you both. His hips hit your ass and your inner walls squeeze him relentlessly.

You cry out his name, and he roars yours, time and space melt and merge and spiral into one and he can't, can't hold it any longer. _Yes!_ The hollow screams its approval. It'll be over soon, he knows that, he knows how much it hurts you both.

You reach it first, that peak you were both searching for, your inner walls clamping onto his straining length with a delirious fury only you could use. He follows behind you, crying out as he fills you with all that he has. _Mate. Mate, _his hollow pants. _Queen_, it breathes as his warmth spills into you.

He slumps over your form, both of you stained with the heat and the blood from his bites and his fingernails embedded in your hips. You fall with him, face pressed against the wood, your harsh breaths melodic to his animal ears. He wraps you in his arms, your warm skin pressed against his and he wishes that he'd never have to wake from this moment.

"_Mine," _He whispers into your ear and you shiver under his touch. You twist in his arms, smothered completely by his embrace and you've never felt as safe. The beast is finally quieting, abating and leaving you both in its tormented wake. You sigh and press your wet skin against his, he holds you tight filling the silence with the things he'll never say but wants to so badly. He his nameless, the hollow, his soul, but with you he has meaning. He is made to consume you. He is made to love you as you are made to love him. _You are, you are. _

* * *

She watches you as you sleep, both of you still naked and pressed against the living room floor. She aches all over, bite marks throbbing and the blood drying an itch she can't scratch. But she doesn't blame you for it. She knows this about you; she knows you can't help it. You just want to make her feel and she loves that about you.

She presses soft kisses against your skin, her touch in contrast to your coarseness. She holds you in her arms, tiny limbs wrapped around your much larger form, but in your sleep she consumes you and holds you and protects you. In her arms you are a weak man and she a weak woman, but together you make each other strong.

She moves against you, the ache between her legs a bruise from your desperation. You don't hurt her but you do make her feel. She watches torn between sadness and elation as your eyes slowly flutter open, beautiful amber locking with hers.

"Hey," You sigh nuzzling your nose against her collarbone. You're the hero of all the worlds and you like to cuddle, she teases you mercilessly about it.

"Did I hurt you?" You ask her, eyes resting on the bite mark on her neck, it's not the first time you've done it nor will it be the last. "I'm sorry," you sigh and it's a desperate pathetic thing.

"Idiot," She admonishes quietly, her fingers lazily trailing through your hair. You still don't get it, she thinks with a smug smile, you tell her about the beast inside and she understands. She lets you take her the way you do to feel the release you need and put the demon to bed. She wants it, wants you. _She_ _loves you_. Yet you still don't get it.

She smiles, the one she keeps for you and presses her lips against your forehead, your eyelids, your nose before resting dutifully on your lips. "You can't hurt me Ichigo," She breathes and you tremble in her arms. "You can't hurt me because you're mine."

If he is possession then she is control and together they are the nameless, the love and show of two lovers and animals completing the dance. She holds you close and you let her. Equals. Always. Forever. _You are, you are._

* * *

**Thank you for reading. **


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